


Heat

by lecriteuse



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Family, Fluff, Food, Light Angst, Post-Trespasser, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 10:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7263478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lecriteuse/pseuds/lecriteuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra and Josephine travel to Antiva City and the Montilyet estate, before their big fat Antivan wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the same universe as [Wild, Wild Sings The Bird](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5013256/chapters/11521657). You don't need to have read it to understand the plot here; it's mostly explained in-text. The main point is that Cassandra and Josephine are already married, but they are (by mutual agreement) going to throw a big "official" wedding, with Josephine's family present, in Antiva. Sort of the Thedosian equivalent of having a big wedding celebration for a couple that already got married in a quick courthouse ceremony.
> 
> Another point from "Wild, Wild" that is important: Their marriage is magically "sealed," which mostly means that they have to be intimate, on a regular basis, or else the seal on the marriage will become void.
> 
> Nothing has been beta-read or edited. Constructive criticism and noting of typos are most welcome!

Cassandra did not cope well with heat.

This was something which Josephine, with the benefit of hindsight, thought she should have anticipated _before_ their journey to Antiva City. Especially since they were arriving at the start of the summer season — Summerday would fall during their stay, in fact — and as the merchant ship in which they had purchased a berth sailed further north, the days stretched out long and languid, like cats in the sun. It had been cool enough aboard the ship, of course. On a largish merchant ship like this, it was always temperate below deck, and the sea breezes were on the brisk side even on warmer days. They had both been reasonably comfortable. 

However, the close quarters and thin walls in the passengers’ berths meant that they had to refrain, by mutual agreement, from… any amorous activities. This was especially frustrating because they had also been separated prior to this voyage, while Cassandra was busy with the reformed Seeker order and Josephine was occupied with family business in Orlais. And now, to be so close, and sleep pressed together on the berth’s cot every night, yet be unable to fully express their joy and desire for one another… it was maddening. In their time together, they had generally either been separated entirely, or able to be free with their passions. This was a new situation, and although it was not entirely _welcome_ … Josephine knew they would make up for it when they arrived.

Josephine was very happy to see the port as it hove in sight, for a great many reasons. This would all be absolutely _wonderful_ , she thought as she checked over their luggage, making sure everything was accounted for and secured to be transported to her parents’ estate on the outskirts of the city. They would have a month — an _entire month!_ — at the estate before their wedding. 

Josephine had been rather surprised at herself with how readily she had embraced the idea of a month of doing nothing more strenuous than finalizing plans for a grand wedding ceremony for herself and Cassandra. But she found that, with the Inquisition more or less disbanded, she wished to spend some time at home, with her family and loved ones, while assessing what her next professional steps were going to be.

Cassandra had been a little more difficult to convince. Working to restore the Seeker order, she was often away from Josephine. However, her work was now at a point where she could (at Josephine’s insistence) delegate training and management of the order, and travel with Josephine to Antiva City to finally have the _proper_ wedding ceremony she had promised her nearly three years ago. In the end, Cassandra’s romantic sensibilities and generous heart meant she genuinely wished to have this wedding take place. Cassandra also knew, as did Josephine, that some time together to plan their future would be necessary if Cassandra wished to remain at the head of the reborn Seeker order while also remaining happily married.

And now they had finally arrived. They would stay — at Josephine’s insistence — in the boat house that presided over the Montilyet estate’s small pier, close to her family but with a certain amount of privacy that would not likely be found in the main house. But first they had to get themselves, and the luggage, to the estate.

As they stepped off the gangway onto the pier, Josephine breathed in the warm air with a kind of ecstasy. After so many years of temperate Orlesian summers, followed by the brief, unconvincing attempts at summer that the Frostbacks put forth every year, this was a blessed homecoming in more ways than one. With the Antivan summer sun warming her like a benediction, the sea-smell of Rialto Bay, the musical lilt of Antivan chatter all around her, Josephine felt something relax open deep inside.

She turned to Cassandra with a smile, to share her deep joy with her beloved, to welcome Cassandra to her hometown, her cherished Antiva City. But when she saw the look of irritation on Cassandra’s face, Josephine, concerned, laid a hand on Cassandra’s forearm. “My love? What is the matter?”

Cassandra shook her head. “It is nothing. Only… let us find your family’s servant. I find I wish to get away from the pier, unless you have business here…?”

Josephine shook her head. She had been thinking that perhaps they would treat themselves to coffee and pastries at her favourite waterside café, as a reward for tolerating the indifferent food available on the ship, and as a welcome to Antiva City, and… well, because Josephine had fond memories of such cafés, and wished to share them with Cassandra. But, no matter. There would be coffee, and pastries, and whatever their hearts desired, at the estate; and if Cassandra wished to leave, if the noise and bustle of the pier made her uncomfortable, it would be best to move along. 

Josephine was expecting one or more of the household staff to meet them at the harbour, and she soon found them waiting patiently next to her family’s old carriage. In short order, the luggage was collected and lashed to the carriage, and they set off. Cassandra huffed and glared at anyone and everything; Josephine guessed that she was anxious, now that the time was upon them to meet her parents face-to-face.

Once they were seated inside the carriage, with the windows opened to allow the breeze to blow through, Josephine took one of Cassandra’s hands with both her own. “I hope you are not too worried, my love,” she said. “I am certain that my parents will welcome you with open arms, and adore you as I do. And I promise I shall try to shield you as best I can from being mobbed by hordes of well-wishers once the rest of the Montilyets arrive,” she added, teasing, trying to get Cassandra to smile. “In this, _I_ shall be your champion.”

But Cassandra managed only a smirk that was not even a proper smile, and Josephine fell into confused silence. Sensing Josephine’s upset, Cassandra gave her hands a squeeze. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I am not worried. Truly. I am just restless, after being at sea. And it is so hot in here,” she said, her voice taking on a peevish note. “I was born in a carriage, and I had hoped not to smother to death in one!”

“Ach, I am sorry,” Josephine said. “Now that we are in the city, there is little enough breeze to cool us off, but the sun will continue to beat down upon the roof of the carriage. I’m afraid there is little to be done. Are you very uncomfortable?”

“I will be fine,” Cassandra said, shifting and tugging at the collar of her jerkin. “How long until we reach the estate?”

“Less than an hour, my darling.”

Cassandra harrumphed, then closed her eyes. She allowed Josephine to continue holding her hand, although this probably did not help with her feeling overheated. Josephine looked out the windows and tried to enjoy the scenes of passing buildings and marketplaces of Antiva City, casting worried glances at Cassandra every so often.

The carriage cooled a little as they emerged from the crowded city streets, into the outskirts of the city where many trading families had estates. The breeze seemed to revive Cassandra enough to open her eyes and look out the windows, and Josephine began to tell her about the landmarks they passed: “That is the road to the Alvarado estate; I was quite good friends with two of their daughters when I was a child. Oh! That grove of orange trees is where I used to play with my brothers. I often got scolded for climbing trees in my dresses, which was a wicked injustice, as my brothers were allowed to climb as they pleased….”

By the time the carriage pulled down the drive to the Montilyet estate, Josephine was nearly vibrating with anticipation. This would be the first time in many years that she had seen her parents. Letters simply weren’t enough, not for family, Josephine thought, and she had been through so much potential danger since then… and her parents were not getting any younger. She babbled to Cassandra about the gates, the road, the trees they passed, unconsciously gripping her hand tighter and tighter. Then they pulled in front of the front entrance of the main house, and Josephine’s parents appeared, and Josephine fairly flew out of the carriage and into her father’s arms.

The next hour was a happy blur. Josephine embraced both her parents again and again, pressing kisses to their dear cheeks, tears prickling at her eyes (her father was weeping freely, though his smile was as wide as her own). They both fondly embraced Cassandra, as Josephine knew they would, welcoming her to their home and into their family with words both formal and warm. Then their luggage was unloaded and sent to the boat house, and they were given an informal tour of the main rooms (ostensibly for Cassandra’s sake, though Josephine needed and wanted to reacquaint herself with her family home after so many years away). Josephine felt joy bubble up inside of her every moment, exclaiming over everything from her father’s newly-acquired beard to the spectacles her mother now wore, from the height of the verge around the main lawns to the new paint colour of the entranceway, from the pair of elderly lap dogs napping on the corner of a room to the old familiar table and chairs on the veranda (now set with the hoped-for coffees and pastries).

Josephine tried, she really tried, to check in with Cassandra very often, to make sure she felt at ease; little things, just a touch of the hand, a shared glance, a smile, to let Cassandra know she was seen and welcome and loved. But, oh, she was aware that she was failing. Her attention was drawn everywhere at once; her happiness at being home, _home_ after so long kept overtaking every ounce of common sense and care that she wished to show; she and her father chattered to one another without cease, and she kept losing herself in the conversation. Thank the Maker her mother, always the consummate hostess, had taken Cassandra in hand, walking with her in quiet solidarity through the brief tour, and making sure she was plied with coffee and sweets once they settled on the veranda.

It was wonderfully warm on the veranda. They were seated on the part of it that extended over the lawn at the back of the house, with an unobscured view of the gardens, the boat house, and the sea beyond. Although they were shaded by a large canopy of bleached canvas, the heated afternoon air seeped into Josephine’s bones; she could not recall when she had last felt so relaxed and at peace, here in Antiva, on the veranda with her parents and her beloved wife.

Nibbling on a pastry that oozed flower syrup, Josephine looked in contentment at the dear faces around the table. Then she noticed something. “Oh, Cassandra, you should drink your coffee before it cools too much,” she said.

“I… I am afraid I am already over-warm,” Cassandra said awkwardly.

“But that is precisely why we Antivans drink our coffee hot, especially in the midday heat!” Josephine said enthusiastically. “Hot drinks balance the body’s temperature, you see. Try it, I am sure it will help!”

“Thank you, but….”

“And you should have some of these pastries. They are made with rose syrup. I have not had them since I last left Antiva!”

“I am not hungry, thank you.”

“But you have not had a bite to eat since we broke fast on the ship!” Josephine exclaimed.

Josephine’s mother was signalling to the servant. “Please have the kitchen staff bring out some fruit,” she said softly, “and a pitcher of agua fresca.”

“You always did love these,” Josephine’s father was saying cheerfully. “You get your sweet tooth from me, I am afraid!” He took a large bite of the pastry.

“Papa!” Josephine exclaimed. “How will you ever get the syrup out of that outrageous beard of yours?”

“Don’t you like it?” he asked, dabbing at it with a napkin. “I think it gives me a certain gravitas.”

“Not when it is full of pastry crumbs and rose syrup!” Josephine said affectionately, leaning over to dab at his beard with her own napkin.

Two servants arrived at the table, bearing bearing a platter of cut fruits and a large pitcher of melon juice with four goblets. “Ah, thank you,” Josephine’s mother said as the items were set before her. She poured two goblets of agua fresca, which immediately began to sweat in the heat. “Lady Cassandra,” she began, passing one of the goblets to the Seeker, “this is a kind of refreshing fruit juice. It may cool you better than coffee; hot drinks are not to everyone’s liking.” This last was said with no audible rebuke at all; nonetheless, Josephine found herself flushing. Ach, she had been so determined to be attentive to Cassandra! Well. She would simply have to do better, to welcome her beloved to this place and make her happy here.

Fortunately, the fresh food and drink seemed to revive Cassandra somewhat, in body and spirit, and she began to join in the conversation with a bit more energy than she had previously displayed. The forthcoming wedding was mentioned only in general terms — “There will be plenty of time to plan the details later,” Lady Montilyet had said, firmly, when her husband and daughter had gone on a little too long about the jacket he was having made for himself for the occasion — and Josephine’s parents both managed to engage Cassandra in conversation (about the voyage to Antiva City, about the Seekers, about some of the Inquisition adventures Josephine had mentioned in her letters home).

Soon enough, it was time for everyone to dress for dinner. Josephine led Cassandra down the path to the boat house; she held Cassandra’s hand the whole way, rather selfishly, for her own comfort and reassurance. “We will be quite comfortable here,” she remarked to Cassandra as they approached the building at the edge of the water. “The lower level is where the boats are kept… we only have the sloop and the dinghy these days, though there used to be a yacht, and I believe my lady mother intends to rent one for the wedding at any rate… but the rooms above are quite comfortable, and we will have them all to ourselves, which will be especially welcome once my family begin to arrive at the main house — ”

“Yes, Josephine,” Cassandra interrupted gently. “So you have told me. I assure you, I am very pleased with the accommodation. And I must admit, I am _very_ glad we will be at the water’s edge. I hope it will be cooler there. Is it always so damnably hot in this part of Antiva?” she asked, her tone irritated.

Josephine glanced over at Cassandra, startled. She herself was perfectly comfortable in the balmy air, the late afternoon sun warming her back wonderfully as they walked to the shore. But she saw that Cassandra’s face was flushed, and sweat beaded delicately at her hairline and on the bridge of her nose. “Oh, my poor Cassandra,” Josephine murmured. “I am sorry. I should have known… perhaps you would be more comfortable in less confining clothing?” she ventured, eyeing Cassandra’s leather breeches, her buff jerkin with its high protective collar, the sturdy fabric and close fit of her long-sleeved tunic.

“…Perhaps I will not wear leathers. At least while we are on your family’s estate,” Cassandra said, her tone resigned.

“I am sure that we can have something more appropriate made up for you in short order,” Josephine said as they ascended the stairs into the living space of the boat house. “Something looser, in a lighter fabric…. And we will open the windows to the sea once the air has cooled a little. In a day or two, with a few accommodations, you will be as used to the heat as any born Antivan,” Josephine said with a confidence she did not entirely feel, watching Cassandra irritably wipe the sweat from her brow.

Their luggage had already been brought in by the estate staff; Josephine and Cassandra began arranging their belongings around the suite (comprising a bedroom with an armoire and chest of drawers, a large sitting room with windows looking out over the water, and a small changing room and water closet). They took turns washing (which seemed to improve Cassandra’s disposition considerably), changed into fresh clothing, and walked back to the main house, arm in arm, with Josephine trying and mostly failing to contain her enthusiasm in pointing out features of the estate (and their attendant memories) to Cassandra.

Supper went well, Josephine thought. It was a quiet affair, with just Josephine’s parents, Cassandra and herself. The conversation went easily, to Josephine’s relief; she was feeling rather uncertain after her missteps that afternoon, but she need not have worried. Her mother always knew how to put even the most staid person at ease, and she drew Cassandra into conversation without difficulty for either party. Her father, as a host, was rather more enthusiastic than gracious, although Josephine noted with delight that he managed to charm a genuine smile out of Cassandra several times over the course of the meal. And the dining room, with its large windows opened just enough to allow a cross-breeze to freshen the air, and its tiled floor that was always cool to the touch, seemed to be physically comfortable to Cassandra — though the chilled wine served throughout the meal, and the sorbet that accompanied the digestifs, likely helped.

They walked back to the boat house in companionable silence, Josephine holding a lantern to light the way. Although the sun had dipped below the horizon, the air (Josephine noted with dismay) was warm and rather muggy. Had she been wearing anything other than a light and low-cut house-dress in the Antivan style, she herself might have been rather uncomfortable. She glanced uneasily at Cassandra, who had exchanged her leathers for canvas breeches and a velvet waistcoat over a long-sleeved tunic that was likely too heavy for this climate.

Once in the boat house, they threw open the windows in the sitting room and bedroom, hoping for a cross-breeze. But what air moved through the rooms was warm and humid. Cassandra, once more flushed and damp with sweat, grumbled as she stripped off her clothing and pulled on her sleeping shirt. Josephine had already climbed into bed, though even she was hesitant to pull more than a single linen sheet over her limbs. “Come to bed, my love,” she said imploringly. “Moving about the room will only make you feel hotter.” 

When Cassandra slid into the bed next to her, Josephine reached for her; it had been _so long_ since they had been able to be intimate. Josephine had been looking forward to this for _weeks_ , and that last stretch of forced celibacy on board the ship had been excruciating.

But Cassandra did not seem to welcome her touch. This was not entirely surprising, since it had been a long and tiring day, and Cassandra was still overheated, her skin hot and clammy under Josephine’s fingers. 

Ah well; Josephine could be certainly wait until Cassandra was feeling better. She withdrew her hand and simply pushed herself up to tenderly kiss Cassandra’s lips, once and (indulgently) a second time, then settled back. Although Josephine slept, she came almost to waking several times as Cassandra tossed and turned and muttered beside her.

In the dim light of dawn, Josephine, still half-asleep, moved close to Cassandra, twining their legs and pressing her nose into the cook of her neck… but Cassandra groaned and rolled away. “My love?” Josephine asked, her voice thick with sleep. 

“I am afraid I did not sleep at all,” Cassandra said. She sounded exhausted. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her back to Josephine. “It was not even this bad in the Hissing Wastes, or the Western Approach.”

“You were on expedition, then,” Josephine pointed out, sitting up in bed. “Perhaps a bit of exercise today will do the trick. I could take you down to swim in the ocean.” Josephine brightened, coming more fully awake. “I swam in the cove here so very often when I was a girl. It is quite private; no boats come into the cove, and there are no other houses nearby. The water is very clear, and delightfully cooling in the summertime. We could collect shells….” She caught a glimpse of Cassandra’s expression, and gave a rueful laugh. “You… do not swim?”

“I _can_ swim,” Cassandra said. “…If I need to. There was a lake on my uncle’s estate, and my brother taught me how. But it was not an activity I found _enjoyable_.”

Josephine thought perhaps that a Nevarran lake — she pictured something murky and weedy — was not conducive to enjoying being in the water. But she did not express this thought. “Well,” she said, “perhaps we could find somewhere shady and cool outside, where you could perform your drills.” 

Cassandra merely sighed, rising from the bed. “Perhaps,” she said, though she did not sound enthusiastic.

Josephine looked after her, at a loss. “Well… there is some short time, before breakfast will be served. Let us get dressed, and go to the estate’s chantry, together.”

This _did_ get a reaction. Josephine hardly ever joined Cassandra in her daily Andrastian devotions, and Cassandra did not expect her to. But, despite Cassandra’s evident exhaustion and malaise, she seemed to recognize what Josephine was attempting to do. She gave a small smile and walked to Josephine’s side of the bed, leaning down to kiss her. “That sounds very nice,” she said. “I will wash, I think, then dress.” She disappeared into the dressing room; when Josephine licked her lips, she tasted the salt of Cassandra’s sweat. 

So they prayed together in the estate’s small private chantry, then took breakfast on the veranda with Josephine’s parents. During the meal, Josephine mentioned having weather-appropriate clothing made for Cassandra, and her mother promised to have it taken care of with all due haste, eyeing Cassandra up and down, assessing her size and proportions. Cassandra flushed under the scrutiny, but thanked her for her trouble — she must have been quite desperate, Josephine thought, to accept an offer of new clothing with so little fuss.

After the meal, Josephine sequestered herself with her father to begin going over the books and to discuss the direction of the family’s business. Cassandra went to find somewhere cool and shady on the grounds to go through her drills. By the time luncheon was served, also on the veranda, the weather had become sunny, but with a pleasant breeze blowing off the sea. Josephine was in good spirits; she and her father had spent a productive and enjoyable morning, and Josephine was quite optimistic about her family’s fortunes.

When Cassandra arrived at the table, she gave the appearance of having recently and hastily washed, although her face looked rather flushed and clammy. Josephine stood to welcome her with a kiss, and noted, with alarm, that heat was radiating off her. “My darling!” she exclaimed. “Oh, you must be so hot. You must have been training very hard.” She led Cassandra to her chair, which she pulled out for her. “Let me order some — ah, mama has anticipated your need,” she remarked, poured a goblet of chilled agua fresca for Cassandra, who drained most of it in a (surprisingly elegant and dignified) single pull.

Josephine’s father’s brows knitted. “You must not make yourself ill, Lady Cassandra,” he said. “In midsummer heat, even we Antivans avoid strenuous physical activity, especially around midday. And besides,” he said, smiling, “you are meant to be relaxing, taking your ease! There is no need for you to be up and about. You should — ”

“Cassandra finds drills and exercise to be relaxing, papa,” Josephine gently interrupted.

Hie eyebrows rose. “Ah! Yes! That marvellous Seeker discipline! Well, well. You certainly live up to your legend.”

Josephine watched, anxious, as Cassandra avoided responding to her father by sipping from her (refilled) goblet.

“I have already ordered some lighter clothing for you,” Lady Montilyet said to Cassandra. “I know several of the seamstresses at a quite good shop in the City. I have been assured that the clothing will be delivered by tomorrow morning. I hope this will ease your discomfort, Lady Cassandra.”

“Thank you,” Cassandra said, with feeling. “I — I am rather embarrassed. I should have known that I would need suitable clothing, but…”

“Oh, no, my love,” Josephine interjected, “this is entirely my fault! Why I did not think to say something before we left — ”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Lady Montilyet said kindly. “We have a solution, although it will have to wait until tomorrow. And, my dear,” she said, addressing Cassandra, “please do not be embarrassed. The heat really is atrocious, especially if one is not used to it. Or constitutionally predisposed for it.” She smiled conspiratorially. “My husband and my children all take to hot weather like ducks to water. People like you and I must make what adaptations we can. Such as indulging freely in the agua fresca,” she said, refilling Cassandra’s goblet once more, “and this gazpacho,” she concluded as the servants moved in with bowls of the chilled soup.

Over lunch, Lady Montilyet declined Josephine’s proposal that they start planning the wedding in earnest — “We still have plenty of time, darling,” she said fondly, “and you two still need to recover from your trip” — and suggested that Josephine and Cassandra spend the afternoon at their leisure. She knew Cassandra to be fond of reading, and advised that they find somewhere cool and pleasant to read together.

The afternoon passed pleasantly enough. They went to the shaded grove that Cassandra had spent the morning in and sat upon the grass against the trunk of a tree, shoulder-to shoulder, to read quietly together. But Cassandra, still wearing heavy and close-fitting clothing, was not entirely comfortable; she was restless, and could not settle comfortably long enough to enjoy her book. “Let us retire to the boat house,” Josephine suggested after a while. “You can change into your sleeping shirt and read on the bed, or in the sitting room. You might be more at ease once you are out of those clothes.” This last was said with a teasing lilt, but Cassandra did not respond to it. She heaved a sigh before replying.

“Perhaps you are right. And I want to wash, at any rate. I am all over sweat yet again, like a nervous horse,” she complained.

“If it is any consolation, my love, you smell much better than the horse would,” Josephine said, but once again, her teasing missed the mark, for Cassandra merely stood and stretched a little before walking in the direction of the boat house, leaving Josephine to catch up.

At the boat house, they opened the windows to see if a little breeze might be let into the rooms; it wasn’t much, but it was better than having the rooms all closed up. Cassandra washed, changed into her sleeping shirt, and sat on top of the bed covers to read. Josephine had taken her own book, and some correspondence, into the sitting room. She had not changed; her house dresses were designed for this kind of weather, light and loose fitting (except around the bust), and she was (as her mother had said) very well-acquainted with hot summer weather. She felt miserable at the idea that Cassandra was miserable; that Cassandra was not enjoying herself here at Josephine’s childhood home; that she herself had failed to adequately prepare Cassandra for the climate here. 

Josephine tried to read, but found her mind circling back in on itself. She tried to take care of some of the correspondence she had brought from the main house, but as it was all to do with the upcoming wedding, it made her feel even more upset. She had dragged Cassandra here for this wedding, this wedding _she_ had essentially demanded. And they were to stay here, in this midsummer heat that was making Cassandra so unhappy and uncomfortable, for over a month. Cassandra was certainly regretting ever agreeing to a proper wedding.

And… a difficulty that was at once more practical and more deeply personal stirred in Josephine’s mind. The magical contract that sealed their marriage was secured with Cassandra’s belongings in their trunk. Neither of them had looked at it since they had retrieved it from Vivienne’s safekeeping many months ago and Cassandra had taken possession of it. Indeed, they had never had cause to worry that the ink might be degrading, a sign of the seal becoming void. 

A magically sealed marriage such as existed between Josephine and Cassandra needed to be maintained with regular intimacy, and although they had been separated before and the contract had retained its potency… Josephine racked her mind, trying to remember the last time they had come together in passion. Not on the ship voyage here; not in the uncomfortable inn they had met at just before embarking on the ship; and before that…. Her heart gave an unpleasant lurch. Surely the seal was still intact. Surely she would have… _felt_ something if… if it had begun to degrade.

Utterly unable to concentrate, Josephine set her correspondence aside and walked into the bedroom. Cassandra did not look up from her book. Josephine glanced at the trunk. She had seen the case containing their marriage contract among Cassandra’s possessions that had gone into the trunk, along with Josephine’s things. But, even though the contract technically belonged to them both, she was loathe to rummage among Cassandra’s possessions, or even ask for permission to do so.

Josephine took a deep breath. She glanced at Cassandra, sitting on the bed, apparently riveted by her book. Her long legs were stretched before her, bare, elegantly muscled, graceful even in repose. Josephine’s heart gave another lurch, this one much more pleasant. There was, it occurred to her, an easy and very _enjoyable_ way to ensure that the seal was strong. She sat on the edge of the bed.

“My love?” Josephine asked. “How are you feeling?” She laid her hand on Cassandra’s shin. 

Cassandra lay the book on her chest, and gazed impassively at Josephine. “A little better.”

“Mmmm.” Josephine ran her hand lightly up and down Cassandra’s leg, feeling the hairs prickle in one direction, then smooth in the other direction. She smiled; she found Cassandra’s body endlessly sensual. “My love, my Cassandra. I hate that you have been so uncomfortable.” Josephine shimmied further onto the bed, toeing off her slippers. She allowed her hand to move, slowly, tenderly, up Cassandra’s thigh. “Would you let me… offer a distraction?” she asked, leaning in to press a kiss to Cassandra’s shoulder where the sleeping shirt had fallen off. “Perhaps I can take your mind off it….” Josephine tilted her head up to kiss Cassandra’s lips.

But Cassandra turned her face away. “Josephine, please,” she said, her tone sharp. “I don’t want… _this_. Not _now_.”

Josephine pulled back, irrationally hurt. But, no: she quickly reined in that emotion. Cassandra was certainly allowed to refuse her advances. They had been together long enough by now that they had weathered any number of occasions where one of them was tired, or upset, or simply not interested in lovemaking at that moment. It was the way of things, between any two lovers. 

But still… there was the contract. Josephine sat back at the edge of the bed, giving Cassandra space. “Forgive me; I don’t mean to press you,” she said, keeping her voice carefully neutral. “But… Cassandra it has been… some time. Since we last made love. The seal — ”

“The seal will be fine,” Cassandra snapped. “Even if it is voided, its necessity has passed. Without my place in the Inquisition, no one in Nevarra will try to claim me in marriage. And besides, we are to have a proper wedding ceremony in a few weeks. The seal no longer matters.”

Josephine, bewildered, stared at Cassandra, who did no meet her eye. “But… it matters to me,” she said weakly. “Not the seal itself, although… I must admit, I will be distressed if it should become void. But… we have been apart for so long, and… I simply want to be close. To be intimate, if you will let me. I have missed you, my love,” she said. She reached her hand, palm turned up, across the cover, not to touch, but to offer an opening. To ask for a response.

Cassandra looked away. “I cannot,” she said hoarsely. “I — ugh!” Her face contorted and she flung herself to the far side of the bed with a violent motion. “I hate this!” she ground out.

“You hate this?” Josephine asked haltingly. She stared at Cassandra’s back, her hunched shoulders. “Do you really hate this… here?”

Cassandra shook her head and made a frustrated noise. “No, I — I like this place, I _want_ to like it,” she said. She had turned her head, so that Josephine could see her face in profile, looking peaked and exhausted. “I just… I do not know how to do this. How to — how to come to a new place, and meet new people, and learn to, to fit in. To make myself liked.”

“But… you do not need to make yourself _liked_ ,” Josephine said, trying to understand. “My parents already love you.”

Cassandra gave a bleak-sounding laugh. “Perhaps,” she said. “I believe you when you tell me this. But I… I do not understand how such a thing should be.”

“They they should love you?” Josephine said. “Why should they not be ready, be eager to love you?” Slowly, she lifted her legs once more onto the bed, and tentatively moved closer to Cassandra. “They know _I_ love you. That is… enough, and more than enough, for them to love you too, Cassandra.” She reached up with one hand, slowly, as one might approach a wild cat; very lightly, she stroked the back of Cassandra’s neck with her fingers. “This place is your home now, as much as it is my home, but….” Josephine let her fingers drift up, to card the short locks of hair, damp with perspiration. 

“This is all new to me too, in a way,” Josephine went on. “I will admit, I feel perhaps a little out of my element. I have only ever been a child here, in this place, with my family. I must find a new way to be here, as a married woman.” She stroked her fingers through Cassandra’s hair, allowing the air to cool her scalp. “We have found ways… found ways forward together before. And that is what we must do now. And yet… I want to share all the joys of my home, of my childhood, with you, my love.” She leaned forward, pressing her lips to where Cassandra’s neck joined her shoulder. “I want you to be happy here, as I was. As I hope to be. As I hope _we_ shall be, whenever we are able to come here, together.” Cassandra’s shoulders relaxed incrementally as Josephine, between words, placed gentle kisses on her feverish skin.

After a few moments, Cassandra’s shoulders dropped. She leaned back into Josephine with a sigh, turning her head to tuck it under Josephine’s chin. Josephine put her arms around Cassandra, despite the heat, and pulled her close, pressing kisses into the crown her her head. They sat like for for some few moments, just to be close, feeling the pulse and breath and living warmth of one another.

Then Cassandra stirred. “I am again covered with sweat,” she said, “and now you are too.”

“My poor love,” Josephine murmured. “I do not mind your sweat, not at all. Though I do not like that you are in such discomfort. But it is as my mother says: in a short time, you will be used to the heat, and you will know what to do to be comfortable.”

Cassandra gave an irritated sigh. “It does not seem to bother _you_.”

“Because I remember what I used to do, to be comfortable. I wear loose dresses made of fabrics that the air can move through,” Josephine pointed out. “I move slowly when I must move at all, especially during the day’s hottest hours. When I become overly hot, I can easily bear it because I know there are cool rooms to go to if needed, chilled drinks to be had at every meal, and… well, there is always sea-bathing in the cove.”

Cassandra turned her head up to gaze at Josephine. “You really want to go swimming?” she asked dubiously.

Josephine titled her head, looking back at Cassandra. “I do not wish to place undue pressure on you, my love, if it does not appeal to you. But… as you say, I am myself now rather hot and, ah, damp,” she said ruefully. “And, yes, I wish to go swimming, to cool myself. And… I would very much like if you would join me.”

Cassandra lay still for a moment. Then, with a great sigh, she said, “Oh, all right.”

And so, a few minutes later, Josephine — laughing for joy, and clad only in her smallclothes and half-corset — led a bemused Cassandra — in her canvas trousers (as she wore no underpants) and breast band — down the path to the small pebble beach that lay nestled between the rock faces of the cove. The stones were not exactly smooth on bare feet, so they danced over them quickly. Despite the heat of the day, and the afternoon sun which still shone down upon them, the water was cold enough that Josephine shrieked as she waded into it, and even Cassandra gasped. Soon, at Josephine’s insistence, they had waded out far enough that Josephine was slowly treading water, though Cassandra could apparently stand on the now-sandy bottom. They clasped hands, and Cassandra easily moved Josephine around in the water as she laughed, then — overcome with happiness — pulled her close for a kiss. Their skin felt very warm where it pressed together, in the cold water.

“How,” Cassandra asked, “is it possible for the water to be so _cold_ , when the weather is so very _hot?_ ”

“It is the deep magic of the salt-sea,” Josephine relied serenely. “Or so papa always told us whenever we asked about anything to do with the ocean. Now, we must stay in the water until it feels warm to us; that is how one knows one has truly cooled off.” 

“I do not think I will _ever_ find this water warm,” Cassandra said, her tone mock-arch, as she slowly swung Josephine around. “But… you are right. This _is_ pleasant. Or perhaps it is merely because you are here, in my arms,” she said playfully, pulling Josephine close once more and kissing her.

After a moment, Josephine pulled away, laughing. “No, no, we will never cool off if you keep doing that!” She pushed herself away from Cassandra and languidly paddled a few feet away. Then, casting a wicked grin at Cassandra, she slapped the surface of the water and sent a mighty splash into Cassandra’s face. Following this declaration of maritime war, Cassandra gave chase to Josephine — who, despite not being able to touch bottom at this depth, was not hindered by canvas trousers as Cassandra was — amid much splashing (from Josephine) and much laughter (from both women).

Josephine shortly declared herself the winner of the war, as evidenced by her having captured Cassandra (she was, in fact, clinging to Cassandra’s shoulders from behind, allowing herself to be slowly towed about as the taller woman walked across the ocean floor). At one point, Cassandra remarked, “You know… I actually _do_ find the water feels temperate, rather than cold. Is it really the same temperature as when we came in?” she asked wonderingly.

Josephine pulled herself close to press a kiss to Cassandra’s ear. “You see now?” she said. “The deep magic of the salt-sea.”

They made they way, dripping, back up to the boathouse entrance. Cassandra quickly stripped off her sodden trousers and breast band and rubbed herself vigorously with a towel, which she then tucked around her torso to help Josephine remove her wet half-corset. Josephine was chilled enough for gooseflesh to show all over her skin, so Cassandra naturally put her arms around her and held her close. For warmth. And then Josephine tipped her head up to kiss Cassandra, their lips salty from the sea. And Josephine moved her body against Cassandra in such a way that the towel somehow fell away, and then one thing led to another, and, well.

After some time had passed, the two women lay together in bed, the sheet tangled around them. Cassandra, cradled in Josephine’s arms with her head on her breast, gave a contented sigh. “I suppose the marriage seal will be quite strong now, if it was ever wavering.”

Josephine smiled, and pressed a kiss to Cassandra’s head. “Mmmm. Yes. I am quite reassured.”

“Though now we are both hot and sweaty once more.”

Josephine gave a light laugh. “Yes. Do you wish to struggle into your wet trousers and go for another swim, or will you risk being over-warm for supper tonight?”

“I do not relish the thought of trying to wrestle those trousers back on,” Cassandra said drily. “I think a wash will suffice. Besides, it is nearly the dinner hour, is it not? As you have said, chilled wine is a quite good way to deal with the heat…”

They made themselves presentable. Josephine braided her still-wet hair into a loose knot, knowing that there were only her parents and the household staff to be scandalized by her relatively unkempt appearance, and they had all seen her in far less dignified states than having wet hair on a hot day. She and Cassandra walked arm in arm toward the main house, the sunset blazing behind it.

“Cassandra,” Josephine asked tentatively. “Are you… are you truly happy? To be going through with this wedding, like this?”

Cassandra extricated Josephine’s hand from the crook of her elbow to press a kiss into its palm. “My love,” she said. “I never thought I would have… this. A partner to love. A family. A… a home. It is all so strange to me. And a little overwhelming,” she added ruefully. “But… yes, I am happy. And I wish to be properly married before all our friends. And… family.”

“That is good,” Josephine said. “Because I understand my uncle Gilles is arriving in two days, with his family, and he is very much looking forward to overseeing the creation of a proper Antivan wardrobe for you….”

“Maker preserve me,” Cassandra groaned.

“…both for the wedding, and for everyday wear. And Yvette is arriving a day later, and she is quite keen to make a wedding portrait for us. But do not worry, we shall only have sit for it for a day or two… And of course Yannic will be home from school soon, and he will be ever so eager to train with you every day….”

Cassandra was shaking her head. “Does the boat house door have a lock?” she asked, only half joking.

Josephine laughed, and gave Cassandra’s arm a squeeze. “I shall have one installed immediately,” she said. “And show you all the best hiding places on the estate, as long as you promise that we may hide out together.”

“Together,” Cassandra agreed, leading her up the steps through the last hot rays of the sunset, into the cool of the house.

**Author's Note:**

> This is not _the_ wedding fic. I am still planning to write a longer piece, where the wedding itself will take place, in Cassandra's pov. This is just a little frivolity for the summer solstice. Hope you enjoyed.  <3


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